If these shadows have offended
by Heavenmetal
Summary: A Malkavian gets her hands on a strange weapon, rambling ensues, the malkavian/arcadian connection is explored and another vampire's ghoul cowers in a van.


Based on a "Vampire: the Maquerade" game in which my character acquires a very unique weapon. There are strong themes in this story of the Malkavian/Arcadian connection…

…or maybe it's all in your head

Robin stood outside the van, dirty and disheveled, her pretty blue dress ruined by the wood that had inadvertently staked her heart. Now, however, she felt no pain…only elation. She was completely unperturbed by the fact that Mouse had slammed the door, baring her from the van. She didn't even mind when she heard him cock his rifle. She would forgive him. Her mouse was easily frightened, after all and she had something else to distract her attention.

The Malkavian stared down at the dagger she'd been given. The moonlight reflected softly off the blade held protectively in her small pale hands. It seemed to glow, like the way that spirits glowed.

"Kirek…" She breathed the word, giving a name to her new weapon. She smiled, feeling warmth in her hands that told her the weapon had accepted its title. She giggled softly, her happiness rising up and seeming to bubble from her lips in soft peals. She laughed louder, cackling as the madness in her blood turned her delight into a manic delirium that she rode with gloried abandon.

She heard Mouse whimper inside the van and reigned in the laughter, chortling to herself. Staring down at her newest and most prized possession, she stroked the blade, fingertips barely touching it as if afraid it would dissolve. She played the memory of it's acquisition over and over again in her head.

"I found it…" she said, her voice tinged with longing and reverence. "I found it! I searched and I searched for them and… they noticed me."

She continued to lovingly caress the weapon, to reassure herself that it, and all that had transpired, was solid and real. She knew she was insane, knew that the curse lived in her blood. She could have dreamed the whole encounter, enacted a delusional fantasy because her heart had desired it so very, very much… but if she had then she wouldn't possess this dagger. It was proof! The proof she had long sought that the impossible was real. That in one thing, at least, she wasn't crazy.

She clutched the knife to her heart. "Not like the other times." She spoke into the darkness, comforted by the sound of her own voice. "See things. Things that aren't there, _were_ there but aren't there! I found it!" She cackled again, something like rapture crossing her features as she babbled to herself.

"Where do you think we are?!" She punctuated this with a high sharp bark of laughter before resuming her ranting cadence. "Not supposed to come here. Not supposed to be here… But I found it. Eyes everywhere, knew I was there. Noticed me, they reached out…afraid of a little thing like…I saw the sun and didn't burn! I saw the sun and didn't burn! I saw…sun…"

Her voice trailed into whispers, marveled at herself that she had done what no other vampire had without turning to dust. She recalled the landscape as she'd seen it; the beauty of the enchanted glen dappled with light in colors as she hadn't seen them for over two decades. Her conversation with the Fae creature was still very much fresh in her mind.

"Got to be brave, it's coming. Tear in the veil. They noticed… I noticed. Strong but they don't see. Need me to help them fight it. Only me. Got to be brave."

The thought was sobering, made her fear what would come. She hugged the dagger to her chest as a child would a teddy bear, letting it comfort her. They wouldn't let me die, she reassured herself. She looked down at the rip in her dress, collateral damage from the wood that had pierced her heart and left her immobile and vulnerable. And where there should have been a bloody, gaping wound there was only unblemished skin… but she hadn't healed it.

"Got to be brave…"

Meanwhile inside the van, Chip knelt on the floor, his shaking hands held a rifle trained on the door as he listened to the nonsensical tirade and he thought bitterly to himself; why do _I_ have to baby-sit the crazy vampire?.


End file.
